Home
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: "Home for me is wherever you are, Felicity. I've been home since the moment that I met you." **This is another one-shot in the same world as my previous fic No One Else. If you haven't read that, this probably won't make sense. Also follows Strong Enough and Change.**


**Title:** Home

**Author:** Some1FoundMe

**Rating:** K

**Summary: **"Home for me is wherever you are, Felicity. I've been home since the moment that I met you." **This is another one-shot in the same world as my previous fic **No One Else**. If you haven't read that, this probably won't make sense. Also follows **Strong Enough** and **Change**.**

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I claim no ownership of Arrow.

**Home**

He isn't sure when exactly he moved in with her but as he stands in at the sink in her bathroom he realizes that he hasn't been home in ten days. And even then he'd only gone home long enough to get clean clothes and check in on Thea and his mother. He can't remember the last time that he slept in his own bed. It had been more than six months since she had been taken from him, since he'd gotten her back, and so much has changed.

On some levels, they are the same. She is still working as his executive assistant, however begrudgingly, and she is still at his side time and again while he works to take down Slade and the others who threatened their city. But he finds himself watching her more openly, noticing every time that she laughs or smiles. He can read her moods so easily now and he had discovered somewhere along the way that he can remedy her bad ones. Most of the time a simple touch of his lips to hers and a gentle reminder that he loves her is all that it takes. Unless she's mad at him, of course, and then he has to work much harder to make her happy again.

But more than anything now, making her happy is what he is working toward. He saw the light –her light – extinguished the day that he and Diggle got her back and he is desperate to reignite that unique light in her that he loves. That bright, cheery optimism that radiates around her. It isn't as bright as it used to be but it's getting there. He knows that there are days that the darkness of his world tries to consume her but he fights to keep her in the light. He knows that if they are both shrouded in darkness, they won't survive. He knows that the darkness will destroy her and he cannot let that happen.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror above her bathroom sink. A towel hangs low on is hips leaving his chest bare and he examines his scars. He remembers each injury clearly, remembers the pain that accompanied each of them precisely. He knows that the memory of what Slade's men did to her will be with her forever but he also knows that she is strong enough to overcome the pain and get on with her life.

"Oliver?"

He blinks, realizing that he's been lost in thought, and sees her standing in the doorway behind him. He turns to her and smiles. She steps forward, sliding her arms around his waist. Her chin rests in the middle of his chest as she looks up at him. He threads his fingers through her hair. It is blonde again.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her eyes filled with concern.

He shrugs, "Nothing's wrong, I was just thinking."

She gives him that look that lets him know that she isn't buying his bullshit. He smirks.

"I don't want you to be like me," he says softly, "I don't want to ruin you. That's what worries me more than anything, Felicity. I don't want to ruin you."

She sighs and brushes her lips across his sternum. She doesn't say anything to reassure him but she doesn't have to. He knows that she will recover. He knows that she is stronger than him. She has a will to live. She has an outlook on life that he envies. But that knowledge doesn't stop him from being concerned for her. He worries that, if his darkness doesn't consume her, it will chase her away.

"Are you sick of me yet?" he asks, hoping that his voice sounds lighter than he feels as he watches strands of golden hair slipping through his fingers.

She laughs, the sound sending a chill down his spine. She doesn't laugh as much as she used to and he misses that about her. He misses the random innuendoes and Freudian slips. He misses her rambling most of all but he won't tell her any of that. She is slowly getting back to normal and he refuses to do anything that will halt the progress that she has made.

"It's going to take more than a few days for me to get tired of having you here. I waited a long time for this. For us. I love you."

He bends and presses his lips to hers.

"I love you, too, Felicity. And I only asked because I realized that I haven't exactly given you a choice. I just… I sort of moved in and we've never actually discussed it," he explains, "I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing myself even further into your life."

She rolls her eyes and swats at his chest. She steps back out of the circle of his arms.

"Get dressed, Mr. Queen. We're going to be late."

She leaves him standing alone in the middle of her small bathroom but he doesn't feel any better. He isn't sure why he needs to discuss this now but he knows that if they don't talk about it, it will be on his mind all day. He isn't normally the one to initiate such a heavy conversation, especially so early in the morning, but he knows that it needs to be addressed.

He dresses quickly, following her into the bedroom as he tucks his shirt into his slacks. She is sitting on the edge of the bed putting on her heels.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks.

She lifts her head and glares at him.

"Seriously, Oliver, if I wanted you to go I would've asked you to leave. Honestly, though, I'm surprised that you're still here. I wake up every day wondering if you're going to be in bed beside me. I like having you here. I love it actually. And I know we haven't talked about it but if you want to move in here full-time, I-I wouldn't be opposed to that."

He sits down beside her. They both stare at the floor.

"I love being here, too. I didn't exactly plan it but the idea of leaving you alone wasn't one that I could stomach."

For a long moment neither of them speaks. Felicity has one shoe on, the other is still on the floor between them, and her hands are clasped together in her lap. He wishes for a moment that they were a normal couple having this conversation. He wishes that the danger that he lives with didn't affect her but it does.

"Why does every conversation that we have about our relationship have to be so serious? I mean, honestly, this is a good thing. We should be happy, right? I want you to live here and you want to move in so why are we talking about this like it's the end of the world?" she sighs, "And it's not like us living together would be a financial burden for either of us. My boss was nice enough to give me a decent raise a few months ago and I can afford this place on my own and I know how much you're worth so it's not like I have to worry that you won't be able to pull your own weight."

She's rambling, a combination of nervousness and excitement, and it makes him smile. He lifts his head and meets her gaze. She's smiling, too.

"I think I can manage to pay my half. Although I could just buy the place outright and then we wouldn't have to worry about rent."

She scowls at him, "No, Oliver."

He shrugs but says nothing. He'll leave that discussion for another day. If she wants to stay in the townhouse he's okay with that for now but he already knows that it won't be enough. He wants to provide for her, to take care of her. He knows that staying there won't bother her at all, they could live there for the next ten years and she wouldn't care, but he suddenly has a vision of a house with a yard and a swing set and a little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl running around.

The image startles him and he blinks it away, focusing on the woman sitting beside him.

"Is this it then?" she questions, "Are we officially moving in together? Is this officially going to be home for you? For us?"

For some reason her cheeks are flushed as she waits for him to respond. He angles his body toward hers, lifting his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Home for me is wherever you are, Felicity. I've been home since the moment that I met you."

The color on her cheeks deepens and he skims his thumb across the pink skin. He loves her with a fierceness that he had never expected to feel. He needs her on a level that he doesn't really understand and after years of relying on no one but himself, that need makes him feel vulnerable. He knows that without her he wouldn't be comfortable in his own skin, he wouldn't be happy. He wouldn't be so many things that he is when she is there and he loves her for that.

"Who are you and what have you done with the real Oliver Queen?" she murmurs, her forehead coming to rest on his shoulder, "You say stuff like that and I… I wonder how long it's going to take for me to get used to how sweet you can be. You're usually so surly."

He presses his lips to the side of her head and laughs.

"I'm not surly. Not all the time. At least not to you."

Felicity laughs, too, and lifts her head to kiss him. They sit together for a long time, on the end of her bed – their bed now – in their bedroom. He likes the way that that sounds in his head and he considers telling her but he doesn't. Instead he winds his arm around her waist and holds her lithe body against his side. He knows that they're going to be late for work. He knows that they should get going but he doesn't move. It is moments like this one that he cherishes, quiet moments with her that only they share, so he will hold onto her for just a little longer until the memory is burned clearly into his mind.

Then and only then will he consider leaving the comfort of their home for the confines of the outside world.


End file.
